Ringing Deeps CHAP 1

THE RINGING DEEPS

BY

JOHN RINGO

Dedication

As always

For Captain Tamara Long, USAF

Born: May 12, 1979

Died: 23 March 2003, Afghanistan

You fly with the angels now.

Dedication to Barrack Room Ballads

By Rudyard Kipling

Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled --

Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled --

Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.

They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,

They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of the Elder Days,

It is their will to serve or be still as fitteth our Father's praise.

'Tis theirs to sweep through the ringing deep where Azrael's outposts are,

Or buffet a path through the Pit's red wrath when God goes out to war,

Or hang with the reckless Seraphim on the rein of a red-maned star.

They take their mirth in the joy of the Earth --

          they dare not grieve for her pain --

They know of toil and the end of toil, they know God's law is plain,

So they whistle the Devil to make them sport who know that Sin is vain.

And ofttimes cometh our wise Lord God, master of every trade,

And tells them tales of His daily toil, of Edens newly made;

And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid.

To these who are cleansed of base Desire, Sorrow and Lust and Shame --

Gods for they knew the hearts of men, men for they stooped to Fame,

Borne on the breath that men call Death, my brother's spirit came.

He scarce had need to doff his pride or slough the dross of Earth --

E'en as he trod that day to God so walked he from his birth,

In simpleness and gentleness and honour and clean mirth.

So cup to lip in fellowship they gave him welcome high

And made him place at the banquet board -- the Strong Men ranged thereby,

Who had done his work and held his peace and had no fear to die.

Beyond the loom of the last lone star, through open darkness hurled,

Further than rebel comet dared or hiving star-swarm swirled,

Sits he with those that praise our God for that they served His world.

Author's Foreword

If you've picked this book up cause it has an interesting cover or you're just picking up John Ringo as an author, you need to read this:

This is the fourth book in a series. And it starts 'in media res', that is, in the middle of action. And there is no explanation. I won't say you need to pick up the first three books. But I've started to take the position that trying to introduce all the characters and situations in a new book in a series is tedious to both readers and authors. So, if you don't know who Tyler Alexander Vernon is, the vast importance of maple syrup in this universe or why 'Troy' is important other than as a city in the Illiad… Just hang in there and it will start to make sense eventually.

Or go pick up the other books. That, at the least, will get you somewhat grounded in the universe. I'll try to include a glossary at the end. Hope that helps. Okay, hold onto your hat. We're about to enter space in the middle of a battle…

PROLOGUE

“Where the hell did that come from?” Admiral Clemons snarled. “What the FUCK?”

The gate was spewing Rangora ships. Two AVs followed by cluster after cluster of Aggressor groups.

“Based upon intelligence estimates, that is a good part of the remaining Rangora fleet,” Leonidas said. “About forty percent. And the correlation of forces… is now somewhat adverse.”

“Ya think? Dexter?”

“We’re shot dry, sir,” Guptill replied. “Laser clusters are trashed and we’ve still got spin. Worst of all…”

“Granadica! Can you shut the door now? Please?”

“Sir,” Guptill said. “The shuttles?”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Rangora are going to full launch,” Leonidas intoned.

“Target?”

“Us.”

#

“Get into the tunnels!” General Bolger snapped, bounding off the ramp. “If there are Rangora, just plow them! We need to get these shuttles space borne. Fast. Shit…”

The Thermopylae was still spinning. Between that and a bit too much spring the Marine commander was heading into an inconvenient orbit. He corrected with thrusters and got his feet on the Troy.

“Nearest tunnel is at three point seven mark four,” Colonel Grant “Boner” Threlfall said. The J-3 of First Marine Division frankly thought that any Marine not smart enough to get out of the way of the incoming missiles should have been washed out at boot.

“Let’s get the fuck under armor, then,” Bolger snapped. “This is about to be a very unsafe environment.”

#

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Barnett muttered, hugging the surface of the Therm. The tactical display was nothing but red overhead. The missiles were heading for the Thermopylae but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t target a Terran shuttle. And any one of those ship busters would open up a shuttle like a tin can being hit by… something really nasty. Being nearby when they hit the Therm, for that matter, wasn’t going to be…

“Impact!” MOGs called. “Gas wave…”

“Shiiiii…” Barnett screamed as the blast wave hit.

Explosions don’t propagate well in space. On a planet, the majority of damage from any explosion, from a five-hundred-pound bomb to a 50 megaton nuke, was from expanding gas. In space there is no atmosphere.

Unless, of course, the explosion was from a kinetic weapon hitting a big chunk of nickel iron. In which case it made a very temporary atmosphere composed of nickel and iron plasma.

The blast wave of not one but hundreds of multi-megaton missile impacts washed over both the retreating 142^nd and the 143^rd Tactical Boat Squadrons in what would later be termed “plasmaclastic flow”.

Were any visual system capable of penetrating the rolling blast of plasma, the image would have been of so many soap bubbles briefly tossed in a hurricane of fire and then… vanishing.

Chapter One

"E Eridani. Now."

Tyler Vernon was carrying his space suit and an AI core as he boarded the Starfire.

"Sir," his pilot commed. "With due respect, there's a battle raging in Eridani. All civilian traffic is on hold."

"One, you might remember where I started," Tyler said, stripping quickly and starting to don his suit. "Not my first rodeo. Two. I'm Tyler God Damned Vernon. I go wherever the fuck I please. Hatch is green. Move out.”